


The Shindig (Off to College)

by Menacherie



Series: a time and place for everything, it's called college [1]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, College, F/M, M/M, School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:01:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 16,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22797289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menacherie/pseuds/Menacherie
Summary: Tonight might not be the best time that we've ever had,But it may be the best time ever to realize what we have
Relationships: Babe Heffron/Eugene Roe, Carwood Lipton/Ronald Speirs, Joseph Liebgott/David Kenyon Webster, Kitty Grogan/Harry Welsh, Lewis Nixon/Richard Winters
Series: a time and place for everything, it's called college [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1638982
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akitron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akitron/gifts), [mrsvc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsvc/gifts).

> So this was a huge labor of love written a few years back with some of my best friends. It eventually got abandoned and not posted, and I couldn't stand to have this huge fic just sitting there with no one to read it, especially when I know some of you out there would really appreciate it. Parts of this may not be beta'd, but the fic is, for the most part, complete. 
> 
> I really want to say thank you to Akitron and mrsvc <3

Tonight might not be the best time that we've ever had,  
But it may be the best time ever to realize what we have  
“The Shindig (Off to College)” by FM Static

It was the first meeting of the year and Dick already knew how it was going to go. He gathered up his notebook that had a bullet point list of things that they needed to discuss but were not going to get to. They never ended up talking about the things on his list. He sighed and grabbed a highlighter out of his bag and went down into the basement to set up the meeting room.

The house had only been finished last week, and the only rooms that had anything in them were Nix’s personal room and the dining room. Dick’s room didn’t even have a bed frame yet, just a mattress. The rest of the house was eerily bare and it felt like it had no soul. Dick had been a bit creeped out when he had walked through the house with Nix, who had been bubbling over with excitement.

Nix had gone out earlier in the day and rented a bunch of fold-out chairs and Dick set his notebook on the small table that he would be sitting at and started to unfold them. Nix was upstairs stocking the refrigerator with the beer he had just bought while Lip was going around picking everyone up in the van.

Dick finished up with the last chair as people started streaming into the room. He smiled when he saw his friends from last year. He ended up bumping fists with Malarky and shaking his head in amusement. Lip trotted in after the boys, dragging Nix behind him, who was conversing with Harry. Dick caught a few select words of the conversation and shook his head when he heard whiskey.

He did a headcount and consulted his list of people before nodding. “Alright alright,” he said, trying to speak over the noise. “Hello?” he asked when no one paid any attention to him. “Hey!” Dick finally added some volume to his voice and the boys finally snapped into attention.

“Okay, so the reason you all had to come in here today before school started was that we have a lot to discuss but first of all was room assignments. Now, a lot of you wanted to stay over here instead of the dorms but we do have limited space, we have about three triple rooms, one double, and then each of the officers gets their own rooms,” he told him.

Dick was still a bit uneasy about getting his own room, but Nix assured him it was fine. “I mean, unless anyone objects to the officers getting their own room?” he asked, biting his lip as he looked around the room. There were a few shrugs, but no one really offered any dissent. “Oh, okay then, good,” Dick said and checked off the first item on his list.

Luz picked his head up from the officer’s table. “I don’t need my own room,” he told them. “I don’t actually do anything y’know.” Nix nodded at that point and Dick shrugged.

“Er, well alright,” he said, and then frowned at the room list he had set up. “Well, uhm, who wants to room next to the room some of the pledges will be sleeping in?” he asked, looking up at the room. No one said anything again, and Dick scratched at the back of his head. “Uh, alright, guess we’ll use process of elimination.”

He flipped to a different page in his notebook and peered at the list. “So uh, Lip and I worked together on this list but if there is a problem you can tell me about it and we’ll move some people around.Uh, the first triple is the middle room upstairs, Lip and I put Shifty, Skinny and Popeye together,” he paused when he heard Popeye and Shifty high-fiving and then Skinny turned to bump fists with Shifty. Well, at least that worked out.

“The second triple we put Malark, Muck and Penk together,” he didn’t pause this time, knowing for sure that that room assignment would be fine. “And the third was Perconte, Roe and Grant.” he bit his lip once more. “The double we gave to Liebgott and Christenson, Then Nix, Harry, Lip and I have our own rooms. Uh, does anyone wanna switch with Luz though?”

Everyone looked at each other and Roe sighed. “I don’t mind switching with Luz,” he said. “If he doesn’t mind a triple?”

“Nah,” Luz said, shaking his hand at Roe. “Triple’s cool with me.”

Dick nodded and made a mark in the notebook. “Alright, everyone that’s going to be dorming at the house needs to stay after the meeting, because we don’t really have any furniture yet,” he told them.

“The second part of the meeting is to remind everyone to be on the lookout for replacements, er, pledges when school starts, remember, good recruitment starts early. Lip has a hand out for things to NOT say about the frat, please grab one from him on the way out, we don’t want a repeat of last year,” Dick said, then marked that off of his list. He heard a few snickers from Liebgott and shook his head. Last year’s recruitment had been awful.

“The next thing on the list is to remind you to that meetings will be held every second Thursday, if you have already have a class scheduled on Thursday nights, stay after the meeting and we’ll talk it over. Also, our first project of the year is, unfortunately, a bake sale,” Dick winced when he heard the groaning.

“Are you fucking kidding me? We gotta bake?” Liebgott scowled.

“I don’t know how to bake,” Tab said.

“I do,” Muck giggled out.

“Not that sort of baked dumbnut,” Perconte said, hitting him on the back of the head.

“I know, I know, you can blame the Alpha Gamma’s for it,” Dick told them, then paused. “But no destruction of property please,” he said, giving Liebgott a look, who tried to give him an innocent smile.

“Ugh, of course, it was those girls,” Harry said. “Why’d they get to pick.”

Dick shrugged. “They always organize the first Greek project,” he told them. “It’s their thing, anyway, we should be able to manage some brownies, which is what I signed us up for. Also, we’re handling the drinks, the non-alcoholic drinks, this is for charity boys. We have four weeks to practice making brownies, so everyone try and be on the lookout for some simple brownie recipes.”

“Fucking ridiculous,” Liebgott muttered under his breath. “Woulda rather done a car wash, at least then the girls are in their bathing suits.”

There were murmurs of agreement around the room and Dick shook his head a bit.

“Finally I have a list of rules that come with the house. Everyone will be getting a small packet that I would advise you to read, especially those staying in the house. Quiet hours will be from midnight to ten in the morning on weeknights and three in the morning to twelve noon on Saturday and Sunday. Officially, illegal drugs are not allowed in the house. Officially, underage drinking is prohibited,” Dick paused and looked at them all before shrugging.

“If you are going to be living in the house or eating at the house, please alert the Finance Offices so we will receive your meal plan money in our account. If you do not live in the house but plan to take advantage of the study area we have upstairs and the public areas such as the living room, dining room, and the basement area, a general fee of one hundred dollars will be added to your dues. Speaking of dues, they are due first of each month, there is a ten percent discount if you pay all of your fees by October. Any serious damage to the house done by you or your guest will result in a fine. Guests should be cleared with the House Manager, if Lip isn’t present or it is an unreasonable time, please do not bring your guest to the house. Yes, boys, one night stands have to be cleared by Lip, Nix or me, check with one of us before you leave the party alright? The only exception to this rule is when we hold a party. Smoking will be allowed in common areas, but please be courteous of other people and try to smoke outside. Rooms will be checked once a month for general cleanliness, the house as a whole will be cleaned at the end of every month and even members that do not live in the house will have to help clean. A more detailed list of rules is on the sheet that Harry has.” he paused again, looking at their bored faces.

“Alright, Lip said he will have a schedule for duties-” he ignored the laughter there, though he did shake his head, “posted online by next week, so make sure to check your emails for the notification,” he flipped through his notebook and nodded. “I think that’s it?” he asked, looking over at the other officers for confirmation.

Harry and Lip looked at their own notes and nodded while Luz lifted up his head from the desk and gave Dick a thumbs up.

Dick paused and turned to grin at the rest of the group, but Nix stood up. 

“I want to add that this is not the Frat’s house. This is my house, if you fuck anything up you will have to be dealing with me,” Nix said. “I’m going to be the most understanding landlord ever, but I paid a lot of personal money, not frat money, to fix this house up for us alright? I’m going to be paying for all the furniture we buy today, everything in this house is mine unless you bring it in. You are all renters in my home and will have to pay for any damages done to it,” Nix said, then smiled at them. “But don’t let that keep you from having any fun.”

“Right, well everyone don’t forget to grab your handouts as you leave,” Dick told them, nodding to the handouts by the door. “And everyone staying at the house needs to stay after so we can go get some furniture. Other than that you can go, I hope everyone has a great semester,” Dick gave them all a smile and received a few lazy salutes and hand waves in return.


	2. Chapter 2

It was late, and Speirs’ shift was almost over when the call came in. He subtly tried to duck his head and sunk a bit lower in his chair while scribbling away on the paperwork he loathed a few moments ago. He knew the calls they got this late at night were always noise disturbances and he didn’t want to have to venture out to Greek Row to face the blaring music, low cut tops and the myriad of douchebags passed out on the lawn. 

It doesn’t matter how low he keeps his head, though. He was the rookie and he was not the only one that didn’t like going out to Greek Row. He held back a sigh when Sink called out his name and he made sure his uniform was perfect before taking the orders with a polite “sir” and darting out of the building. He checked the address when he got to his car and the corners of his lips lifted the slightest bit when he realized it wasn’t even on Greek Row.

He realized, though, that not all of the Greek houses were actually on Greek Row when he pulled up to the curb and stared at the house in front of him. While there were no girls with low cut tops or a myriad of douchebags passed out on the lawn, the Greek letters on the door were a pretty big clue that it was still a Greek house. He sighed and climbed out of the patrol car. The noise honestly wasn’t too bad, but then, they probably saw him pulling up and turned down the speakers.

He slowly climbed up the steps, gave them time to put the alcohol away, or at least get the underage kids out of the way. He didn’t feel like taking anyone in tonight because that was just even more paperwork and then they had to deal with the brothers bailing the other brothers out, and rowdy people and Speirs just wanted to go home and sleep.

He finally reached the door and knocked. Surprisingly, it didn’t take very long for someone to answer. A shock of red hair that looked like it had been combed earlier in the night but had been messed up through partying came tumbling out of the doorway, followed by bright brown eyes wide with innocence, and a smile that would make anyone just the slightest bit weak in the knees.

“Yes, officer?” he asked and Speirs bit his lip. He’d heard the phrase thousands of times but tonight, the words seemed to paralyze him.

The boy raised his eyebrow at him and Speirs hurriedly cleared his throat. “We’ve received a noise complaint,” Speirs told him. “This is your first warning.”

He tilted his head and looked at Speirs. “I don’t hear any noise, sir.”

Speirs grit his teeth at the word because the way he said: “officer” was one thing, but the way he said “sir” was a completely different matter. No one should have been able to look that innocent and say sir in that tone. Speirs had never lost his composure on the job and he was not about to start now, so he just nodded and breathed through his nose because he didn’t trust his mouth to not make an inappropriate noise.

He did a quick about-face and hurried back to the patrol car, not looking back; because if he looked back, he’d be caught.

He made it a point not to think about it ever again, but a whole week passed, and all he could think about when he closed his eyes was the way those lips pursed around the word “sir” and the tone and how it shouldn’t have felt like a punch to the gut but it did.

Speirs was filling out even more paperwork when he heard the address being thrown around the office. He’d accepted the job before his mind caught up with his mouth and he could hear his heart pounding in his head the whole ride over to the house. The party was in full swing this time. It took a moment for him to realize the pounding he heard wasn’t his heart in his ears anymore, but the bass of the speakers in the back yard.

Speirs hesitated a bit before knocking. After no one answered, he rung the doorbell. It took a few moments, but the door was yanked open and it was the same redhead from last time, and his throat went dry. He got another easy smile and watched as he swayed the slightest bit on his feet.

“‘Lo, officer.” Normally the slurring of words, especially this phrase, was something he loathed, but he couldn’t be bothered by it tonight.

He recovered quickly tonight and nodded towards the backyard. “Noise violation,” he choked out, but he wasn’t paying attention to anything he was saying. Instead, he was captivated by the colors that the twilight light painted his hair.

“Really!?” the redhead asked, swaying again, and Speirs tracked his movements with his eyes, almost reaches out a steadying hand, until he rested against the door frame.

“Really, ” Speirs said, leaning in the slightest bit as if he’s starting to tell him a secret before he collected himself and cleared his throat.

“Well, then.” Speirs watched as he ran a hand through his red hair and Speirs bit his tongue when the smile reappeared. “I’ll just have to keep them quiet somehow, sir.”

Speirs was glad his arms were crossed or the temptation to yank him towards him would have been too great to resist. Instead, he nodded and grit out, “second warning,” before stalking back to his car. He sat there and stared at the house, inwardly cursing himself for coming back, for volunteering to come back. He sighed and rubbed at his face before starting the drive back to the office.

Like an idiot, he kept going back. He watched the words form and held back a full-body shiver; fought the desire thrumming through his veins, fought the urges to press him up against the door and map out his body with his lips.


	3. Chapter 3

"So, I'm starting to think that you are doing this for a certain pissy writer's attention,” Malarkey said conversationally from behind Joe. He turned around and scowled at him.

"I'm not, " he hissed. "They are our rivals and should be treated accordingly."

Malarkey rolled his eyes and hefted the egg cartons, passing one to Muck and one to Penkala, "Sure Joe. Whatever you say."

"I do say, motherfuckers," he muttered. "Now, come on, it isn't gonna egg itself."

"This, I am so on board with,” Muck said, mock saluting Joe.

He grinned. "Yeah, you are."  
\------

Dick was juggling two textbooks and his computer when the phone rang. No one seemed to be getting up for it, so he put his things down on the closest flat surface and picked it up. "Hello? This is Dick."

"Winters?" the voice on the other side asked in a harried tone.

"Yes," he said slowly. "Who is this, please?"

"David Webster!"

"Ohhhh,” Dick said, examining the freckles on his hand. There was still ink there from where Nixon had played connect-the-dots. "Liebgott's friend, right?"

"Hardly!" the other man said indignantly. "Do you know what he did now? DO YOU?"

"Afraid not,” Dick replied, walking toward the kitchen to get something to eat. He had a feeling this would take a while. He listened patiently as Webster ranted about the eggs everywhere and, to make matters worse, that he had drawn crude penises all over his car with a metallic pink sharpie.

"How did he find those," Dick murmured, brows furrowing. He'd hidden them pretty well, he thought.

"What?" Webster asked.

"Nothing, go on." Webster took another deep breath and kept going. It soon went from what Joe had done to a rant on Joe himself. Dick thought Webster spent a long time on Joe's features, punctuating everything with stupid or a curse. "He really shouldn't have done that," Dick said when Webster had finished (for now). "I can send him over to clean it up. Or one of the culprits."

He looked over into the living room at the clearly trying to eavesdrop trio of Joe's helpers. "I have a feeling I know who else did this."

Webster huffed on the other end of the line. "No, don't. I already went to the car wash. Joe'd only mess it up more."

Dick silently agreed. "Well, if you're not charging Joe with anything, I'll talk to him about property damage." Again, he thought silently.

"Thanks," Webster said, still sounding a bit sullen.

"Is there anything else, Webster?" he asked, not unkindly. The answer was cut off when Liebgott marched in.

"Is that Web?" he asked, yelled, more like. (Dick wondered if he had an indoor voice.) "Gimme the phone!" Dick handed it over, and Joe took it gleefully. “Sup, fucknut," he said first thing. "Enjoy your new paint job?" Dick rolled his eyes skyward and went to pick up his forgotten textbooks.

"Who's got Liebgott all starry-eyed?" Dick looked up to see Nix leaning against the door frame, in his easy, loose manner.

"That Webster fellow he's always yelling about."

"Oh,” Nix said, glancing over. "His girlfriend."

Dick hid a smile. "I don't think Webster would appreciate that."

"I don't give a fuck," Nix told him. "Come on, let Lieb talk to his sweetheart alone. Let's go for a walk, I need a smoke."

Dick looked back at Liebgott, who appeared to be cursing and getting cursed at, in German with a giant silly grin on his face. He looked back at Nix. "Yeah, let's go."

Nix clapped him on the shoulder and kept his hand there. "Good man."

"It's nice, Liebgott found someone to keep his German up with," Dick said mildly as they walked out the door.

Nix snorted deprecatingly and shook his head while lighting his smoke. "You're something else, Dick, Jesus."

Dick gave him one of his secretive looking half-smiles and walked ahead.


	4. Chapter 4

Dick was flipping through a worn paperback book while chaos happened all around him. He could hear Muck and Penk fighting over what to cook in the kitchen. Roe’s door was open and the Doc was fussing over Liebgott’s bruised hand while Liebgott insisted he was “fine, goddammit.” He was alone in the living room, curled up on the couch with a throw blanket over his knees as he read his book, a pencil behind his ear for when he found a good quote to use in his paper.

He distantly heard the door open, and slam shut, but he didn’t bother to look up. He would have ignored the event completely if only, a few moments later, there hadn’t been a pressure on his thigh. Dick looked away from his book, a bit startled, and saw Nix’s head resting on his thigh.

His eyes were closed and he let out an exhausted sigh. Dick allowed himself an amused smile before Nix opened his eyes and looked at him with a pout. Dick quirked an eyebrow, went back to his book, but with his free hand, he pulled the other throw off the back of the couch and dropped it on Nix. Nix shuffled around trying to get under the blanket and Dick turned the page in his book before resting his hand on Nix’s head, threading his fingers through Nix’s hair.

Nix stilled and Dick almost took his hand back, but there was another sigh from Nix, and this one was tinged with something besides exhaustion, so Dick kept going. It didn’t take long for Nix to fall asleep, all while Dick continued to play with his hair.

Liebgott managed to escape Roe’s attention with a bandaged hand, and when he passed through the living room, he rolled his eyes and opened his mouth. Dick gave him a subtle glare and Liebgott ended up smirking at him, made a whipped motion with his hand, before heading down the hallway.

Dick swallowed back a blush and shook his head, going back to his book. He left Nix to his nap until everyone else started drifting into the living room and Dick decided he’d help him up the stairs into an actual bed.

“Nix,” he said, shaking his shoulder. “C’mon, wake up so we can get you upstairs into a real bed.”

“Ngggh.” Nix blinked his eyes up at Dick before turning his face into Dick’s thigh. He heard a few giggles and Dick felt the tip of his ears and the back of his neck go red. “Nix,” he repeated, shaking his shoulder a bit more harshly and moving to stand, letting Nix’s head fall onto the couch.

Nix jerked awake then, and Dick got a glare for his efforts. “Upstairs,” he said, holding out his hands for Nix. Nix grumbled a bit more before he reached out for Dick’s hands. The giggles were out in full force as Dick started to tug Nix towards the stairs.

They made it to Nix’s room without any trouble, and Dick watched him fall into the bed. He turned to leave, but Nix cleared his throat.

Dick rolled his eyes but turned around. Nix was pouting at him. “What? I got you into a real bed. You should be thankful.”

“Do that hair thing.”

Dick paused and cleared his throat. Nix intensified the pout and any ideas Dick had of not running his hands through Nix’s hair pretty much melted away. “Fine, but only until you sleep.”


	5. Chapter 5

"Heffron, right? Edward."

Babe looked up from where he'd been hanging his head between his knees. "Yeah, that's me."

"You're looking sort of peaked, son," Roe said, moving to sit beside Babe on the couch. "You feeling alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just-" he stopped to sigh and ran a hand through his short hair. "I'm exhausted, man. Fucking O'Brian snores like a freight train-"

"O'Keefe," Roe corrected.

"And the rest of these dip-shits can't shut up for the sake of their lives, and I can't fucking sleep, or eat, or study, or take a shit or anything in this goddamn house."

"Sounds like you got a right problem on your hands. Why are you living here anyway?"

"The guys call you a pussy if you don't brave the Puppy Room, same as everyone else. Also, dorm fees. It's fucking free to live here, man."

"You know that's not true, right?" Roe said, a hand resting on Babe's arm.

"Do not tell me that I have to pay," he said, turning even paler.

"No, about the other guys." Babe put his head back between his knees and choked out a small sob. "None of them has ever slept in the Puppy Room."

"These mother-fuckers. Just because I'm some, what the shit do y'all call them again?"

"Replacements?" Roe had settled back, fishing various things out of his pockets that had been leftover from his clinical rotation, and balancing it on his knees as Babe spilled his beans.

"Yeah," he agreed, eyeing Roe's pack of cigarettes with nervous fingers, "some replacement or shit. Why can't you just call them Pledges?"

"Now, Edward," Roe said, lighting a cigarette and passing it to him, "where would be the fun in that?"

"Shit," Babe said, drawing a long drag of smoke, "I- I didn't ask your name."

"Roe," he mumbled around his stick, "Eugene Roe. And don't say a goddamn word about my name."

Babe snickered a little and said, "You're the Doc."

"So that's what they call me behind my back."

Babe laughed, finally relaxed a little, started to look more human. "Hey," he said quietly, looking more at the cigarette smoldering between his fingers than at Roe, "thanks for letting me unload on you like that. If I'd have known who you were..."

"I'm still the House Doc, I'm still here to listen." Babe looked up at his soft, brown eyes and felt self-conscious, but nodded in the affirmative all the same. "Want another?" he said, shaking his pack out.

"Nah," Babe smiled, sought to lighten the mood with a joke, "aren't you Pre-Med? Shouldn't you be putting signs up about lung cancer and shit?"

"Well, I would be but," he stopped to casually flick his lighter on, let the flame dance between them, "that'd be a tad hypocritical of me, wouldn't it?"

Babe smiled, stood to leave, cracked his back wearily. Roe flipped his lighter shut, sparked it again casually. "You know, I bunk down in the room next to you."

"Yeah?" He was still standing like he was going to walk away from him any second, but Roe just casually looked out the window.

"Yeah," he smiled up at Babe. "It's plenty big. You could drag yourself a mattress into the corner. I've got a door, a sensible work ethic, and I've been told on good authority that I do not snore."

It took Babe about five seconds of deliberation before he said, "if I do move in, you can't call me Edward. You got to call me Babe."

"Now why ever not?"

"I don't mean to have flashbacks to the nuns while watching porn, and if you keep calling me that, I just might very will do."

"Well, then," Roe smirked, "don't suppose there'll be too much porn watching going on then, Edward."

Babe laughed, light-hearted at his new prospects, and flipped Roe off. He had a twin mattress, his own electrical outlet, and a mother-fucking chance at not failing every class by two o'clock that afternoon, thanks to Eugene Roe.


	6. Chapter 6

Dick swayed on his feet, putting down his second pint. He wrinkled his nose and thought distantly he quite disliked the taste of alcohol. He walked past Bull surrounded by a crowd of people chanting at him to drink out of what looked like a barrel faster. The Foxhole was buzzing with conversation and drunk college kids singing on the karaoke machine. Dick watched in bemusement as Malarkey led Muck and Penkala in a spirited rendition of Single Ladies. He didn't know they could dance like that. It was kind of fascinating. Someone draped themselves over him and he looked down to see it was Kitty,

"Hey!" She yelled over the noise. "You gonna sing? I think you should totally sing!"

He shrugged and she giggled.

"You should!" she said again. Harry came in on his other side.

"Hey, Dick! Hey baby!" he yelled, "After Destiny's Child we're up!"

"You better have picked something good!" she yelled back. Dick felt very awkward between them. 

Harry put a hand to his heart and looked offended."Of course, I did!" he grabbed her hand, "Come on! See ya, Dick!"

Dick waved at them and watched them rush up to the stage, catcalling Malarkey and his back up dancers.

Dick was very much wondering why he was even here. Thinking back through his semi-fuzzy memories of the night, it was definitely Kitty who made this all happen, first coaxing the boys with 2 dollar drink night and then saying how all the girls would be there for karaoke and somehow the Betas all ended up at the bar. Which led to Dick’s current situation, standing to the side of the bar watching Harry and Kitty do a rousing rendition of I Got You, Babe, with Harry doing Cher's parts and Kitty was on Sonny. He walked over to a table and sat down, eyeing the giant song catalog. He pulled it over and flipped through idly. What could he sing on this, he wondered, he didn't very much like Bon Jovi or Eminem.

"Find anything?" Kitty chirped, plunking herself down beside him. 

He shook his head. "Not yet, I found the Beatles list of songs. I like them. They're nice."

"They are." Kitty agreed placidly petting his head, "You're so cute."

"Thank you," Dick said. "Please don't say that while Harry is around though."  
Kitty giggled and he kept reading the song choices they had.

"Oh!" he said, "I like this one."

She leaned over his shoulder and squealed, "Oh my god yes! You have to sing that one!"  
She pushed him toward the DJ and told him to put Dick on the list and gave the song number. 

She beamed at him."You're up next sweetie!"

"…Okay." he blinked. "I'll wait right…here then."

"Good boy!"

With that, she trounced off and disappeared into the crowd. He stood at the foot of the stage, looking for Nix. He spotted him in the back, in a less crowded spot with several shot glasses on his table. Dick gave an exaggerated sigh and sat on the stairs waiting for his turn. When the group of giggling girls finished their rendition of Spice Girls, he walked up the steps slowly and squinted into the bright lights illuminating the stage. He leaned over the mic and squinted in Nix's direction waiting for the music to start.

"Oh yeah I wanna tell you something-something you'll understand." he sang into the mic, “I wanna hold your hand, Oh I wanna hold your ha-ann-andd."

He stared wistfully in Nix's direction and sang his tipsy heart out. When he finished there were loud cheers and whoops from his frat brothers. Dick cleared his throat before smiling and waving at a few of them. He felt the blush creep up his neck before he started to stumble down the stairs. He suddenly needed air, he realized, and started gently pushing his way through the crowd. 

"You're drooling Nix," Harry said lightly, throwing back a shot. 

Nix took his eyes off Dick's loose form on stage and scowled,"I am not! Shut up."

"You totes were." Kitty sang, "Because you're desperately hoping that Dick is singing about holding your hand probably in the throes of passion knowing you, and riding off into the sunset in your van together to be old married men with your horde of adopted babies."

Nix blinked at her, "I can safely say most, if not all of that scenario is something I have never thought of before, Ever."

"BUT I was a LITTLE right." Kitty crowed, "God Lewis, just confess how badly you want to love ginger prince charming down. Like, he's totally into you."

"No he's not." he mumbled into a glass, "Would you quit it?"

He put his chin down on his arms and watched Dick sway with the music. He'd stolen his iPod enough to know that this was one of Dick's favorite songs. He wasn't an amazing singer but the song washed over him and it felt comfortable. Like when Dick read aloud to himself while studying. He watched Dick finish the song and take the cheering and hollers graciously before slipping out the back door.

"Scuse me," he mumbled, getting up heavily and walking out that way. Kitty balled up her fists and bounced in excitement.

"Yes! Yesssss! He's so going out there to make out with Dick."

Harry put an arm around her."Fingers crossed baby."  
~  
Nix found Dick on a bench, staring at the moon. "See anyone up there?" Nix asked. 

Dick turned and smiled, shaking his head, "Not even the man."

"Lame," Nix replied, sitting down beside him. Dick leaned heavily on him and Nix swallowed. He wiped sweaty hands on his pant legs, working up the courage to say anything.

"Liked your song." he said finally, "It was nice."

"Thank you, Lew." Dick sighed out. The feeling of Dick's warm breath on his shoulder was all Nix needed.

"Hey Dick?" he blurted out, "I have something I need to tell you." He took a deep breath and glimpsed red hair in his peripheral.

"Dick I just-Dick I love you stupid ridiculous amounts."

He closed his eyes tightly and waited for a reaction. There was nothing, He opened his eyes carefully and looked over at Dick who was.

"Asleep." Nix said in disbelief, "You're ASLEEP?"

Dick shifted at the noise and Nix laughed a bit hysterically and looked up at the night sky. "I bet you think this is really funny don't you?" he shook his head, "Fucking of COURSE. This would happen."

Dick shifted again and fell on to Nix's thigh.  
"Oh for FUCKS SAKE."

~  
When Dick woke up the next morning, he felt like he had cotton in his mouth, his head hurt, and it was far too bright.  
"Ugh." he groaned and buried his head in his pillow,

"Hey, there sleeping beauty."

Dick peered up from under his pillow and made a face at Nix before getting up.

"Let's get you some breakfast. Extra greasy dude." Nix told him, smirking a little. Dick scowled at him as they walked down the hallway.

"I am never drinking again," Dick told him. Nix rolled his eyes.  
"You had two drinks baby," he said and his eyes widened, "You baby. You are being a baby is what I said."

Dick didn't seem to notice his slip,"Still though, it was more than enough for me. I'm just not interested in drinking."

He sat down with a groan and poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher. Roe came from behind him, chewing on some toast.

"Lookin' a bit peaky Dick." he said, "Drink this."

He handed him a dixie cup of something and Dick shot it back, making a face. "That's really disgusting."

"And it works," Roe said, giving him a sweet smile. Dick smiled back and Nix felt a frisson of jealousy run through him like he was shocked with electricity. He rubbed his face tiredly and tried not to do something like punch himself in the face over these stupid feelings.

"You alright Nix?" Dick asked, sounding concerned. Nix kept his hands over his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

"I got a cure for that." Roe said, "It's called 8 hours."

"Shut it smart aleck."  
Roe gave another one of his slow sweet smiles and patted the table. "Feel better men."

He walked away, grabbing another piece of toast. Dick started putting what was leftover from breakfast on his plate. He put a piece of toast to Nix's lips.

'Hey." Nix said indignantly, swatting his hand away.

"You should eat." Dick insisted, "You're probably still half-drunk."

"And how," Nix said sardonically, for that he was given an unimpressed look.

"Alright, alright. Give it here."

He chewed on the toast viciously and felt silly when Dick gave him a big smile that he would very much like to kiss off his face. Nix cleared his throat and pushed himself out of his chair, the scraping sound filing the near-empty kitchen."I uh, I gotta go. Do things. I'll um, I'll catch you later."

"Oh. Okay?" Dick said looking confused. "Bye?"

Nix gave him a quick salute and practically ran out of there. "Smooth asshole, real smooth," he muttered darkly to himself. "Aren't you just a winner?"

"Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness." Harry sing-songed back at him when he passed him in the hall. Nix flipped him off and jogged back upstairs. Walking into the kitchen, Harry flipped a chair backwards and sat down by Dick. "Who spit in Nix's cereal dude?"

Dick looked at him wearily. "I wouldn't know." he said quietly into his eggs, "He ran out of here like I was diseased."

Harry mentally facepalmed. "I doubt it had anything to do with you man." Harry assured him, "You know how Nix gets."

"I suppose," Dick said quietly.

Harry patted Dick on the back and they sat together in silence."Yo pass me some of that bacon dude."

"There's still some on the platter! Get your own."


	7. Chapter 7

"Don't you have your own library, Joe?" Web sighed without lifting his eyes off the page. "I understand that you are impressed by our vastly superior architecture and more intelligent student body-"

"Hey, fuck you," Joe smiled, his own particular brand of hello that Web had long gotten used to; mostly against his will. "Besides, I'm not here for the ambiance or whatever."

"Oh, really? Also, kudos on the big word."

"Thanks, asswipe," Joe sniped back. "No, I am here to read and as my library is crawling with freshmen who can't leave me alone, I thought I'd do my studying in peace... with the nerds."

"Oh, so, you are just too popular for your own campus, then."

"And rightly so. Who wouldn't want to be on Beta Omega Beta's dick? Namely, mine. I didn't hear your girlfriends complaining."

"That's because you didn't stick around in the morning to hear them come crawling back to me."

"As their gay best friend, I imagine they always do."

"Such a prick," Web muttered. "Like, Jesus, Liebgott." Joe just smirked, flipped the collar on his leather jacket up some more, and settled back into his chair: surprisingly to Web, he was actually reading. Web didn't say anything, his new plan of action to give Liebgott the cold shoulder until he got bored and left. He figured it wouldn't take long. Joe, however, just snickered at his book, turned the pages with a muttered "shit", and finished the picture off by throwing his feet onto the table.

Web really can't be blamed for breaking first.

"So what are you reading?"

"Green Arrow."

"A comic book?" Web choked out. "Jesus, fuck." He slammed his own books shut and shoved them back in his bag.

"Well, excuse me if it isn't Proust, your Majesty. I fucking love comic books." He pulled the comic book out from inside the bigger book he'd been hiding it in and tucked it casually into an inner pocket. He pulled out a pack of gum, shoved about three pieces in his mouth, and tossed the balled-up wrappers at Web's forehead.

"You know, you've never told me-" Web started, a sudden curiosity overtaking any rivalry they've had between them.

"What? What your girlfriends say about you behind your back? I was trying to spare your feelings."

"No, your major."

"What's it to you?" Joe snapped, eyes narrowed at Web.

"Nothing," Web said. "But if you won't tell me, I'll make it up. How would you like it to get around campus that you go to the beauty school down there?"

Joe blanched, ran a hand through his hair, and jumped up from the table. "Go to Hell, you goddamn- You busted into my files, didn't you?"

"Wait, what the fuck! Liebgott!" Web followed him as he stalked from the library. "You really actually goddamn go to the beauty school."

Joe chewed on a fingernail distractedly, said, "it's cosmetology, fuckface."

"That isn't a four-year program." Web wasn't sure how Joe hadn't punched him in the balls yet, but he was going to push his luck while he had the chance.

"Yeah, well, I dicked around for a couple of years, driving a cab, saved up the dough to apply and all that shit."

"You going to open your own barbershop?"

"That's the plan."

"Well, I think that's great. If you ever need a model, I could always do with a free haircut."

Joe snorted, reached up and tugged violently on Web's bangs, said, "I wouldn't touch this mop with a ten-foot pole and a pair of garden shears."

Web ran a hand through his hair, which he assumed just made it look worse, and laughed. "I think we've just about bonded enough for one day, don't you?"

"Yeah," Joe smirked, "all this feelings shit can't be good for rivalry morale." He paused as if deciding his next words very carefully, before he grabbed Web by the shirt and said, "Now, how about you go get your stuff and then you can show me the best place in this uppity little shithole town to get fucked up."

Web couldn't stop himself from smiling. "We're going to have to walk, you know?"

Joe frowned. "Why?"

"You saran-wrapped my car, asshole!" he yelled, swinging his hastily packed book-bag over his shoulder, a chorus of shushes sounding around them.

Joe just smirked and said, "Consider it my good Samaritan deed for the day. I kept your drunk ass from driving. You can thank me later."

Web realized that, when he smiled, Joe reminded him of one of the T-Byrds from Grease. At that same moment, Webster also realized he was totally and completely fucked.


	8. Chapter 8

Speirs liked to keep in shape, and there wasn’t really too much running around while in the uniform here. The city wasn’t exactly small, but the most running he’d ever done was a block to catch a purse thief. So, Speirs jogged around town, choosing a different route for his early jog every morning. The end of today’s jog brought him to the coffee shop that most of the college kids frequented. Usually, he would have kept running past, but today, a shock of red hair caught his eye. Before he knew what he was doing, his hand was on the door handle and he slipped into the line behind the redhead.

Speirs’ stomach curled up in knots, and he thought about leaving before the redhead turned around. As soon as he screwed up the courage to move out of the way, brown eyes centered on him. He realized, with a sinking feeling, that he’d been jogging in the Georgia heat for twenty minutes and probably looked ridiculous. He waited for the laughter that he knew was coming but nothing happened, except both of their faces turned red.

“I hope I’m not being too noisy, sir.” The smile was back, then, and Speirs swallowed harshly, quickly shook his head. The smile turned the slightest bit wicked and Speirs knew he’s been caught, but he’d been caught since that first night, dusk painting the sky red and the word “sir” rebounding in his head.

A hand was offered to him and, for a moment, Speirs thought of declining it, knowing that he wouldn’t want to let go. He took it anyway, and almost missed what the boy said next.

“I figure since we see each other so often, you might as well know my name. You can ask for Lipton next time we see each other.”

Speirs’ mouth went dry and he managed to croak out his own name through sheer stubbornness. Lipton dropped his hand when his name was called. “That’s my order.” He turned around but stopped halfway to the counter. “I’ll see you around, sir.” And then he was gone and Speirs might as well have been too.


	9. Chapter 9

It’s quiet when Dick lets himself back into the house, burdened with a few bags of groceries. It’s a different sort of quiet from usual, sleeping and quiet boys still make noises, a snore or a snuffle, a shift in a bed. It’s not the quietness that unnerves Dick as he slips into the kitchen to unload his groceries, its the stillness. He didn’t think being in the house all by himself as everyone else spent the holidays with their families would be like this and he’s hit with a sudden bout of terrible loneliness and a longing for companionship. He shakes his head and finishes putting up the groceries, for once not taking care to gently close the cabinets, he’s somewhat desperate for noise right now.

He stands in the middle of the kitchen after he has stocked the cabinets and looks around the house. It’s clean, Lip made sure of that before he left, giving Dick a mock salute before he grabbed his bag and left, so Dick can’t even clean to get rid of the nagging feeling of loneliness. He sighs a bit and ambles into the living room to turn on the radio, he feels a small stab of pleasure as he turns the knob, he isn’t going to be subjected to rap or horrible pop music for a whole two weeks, he can pick his own station. He finally settles on a jazz station and stands there, swaying a bit before smiling and shaking his head.

Dick settles on the couch, listening to the music wash over him for a while as he watches snow flakes float to the ground. He wonders if there will be a layer of it when he wakes up tomorrow, a snowy Christmas eve would be a nice present. He rests there for some time until the radio skips and people start talking about Christmas dinner and Dick thinks he should start his own normal dinner.

He slips off of the couch and starts for the kitchen but turns around and turns the knob up on the radio to keep the silence from enfolding him. He digs out a pan and grabs a few things out of the cabinets and starts to work, concentrating on not cutting his fingers off. A song he knows drifts into the kitchen and Dick lazily sways to the music.

He hears a snort from behind him and he almost drops the knife as he turns around and his eyes are large when they center on Nix. Nix who should be in New Jersey, not smiling at him with laughter in his eyes.

“I- you, what are you doing here Nix?”

“I was in New Jersey for a day before I was ready to kill someone, me, my mom or my dad, but I couldn’t stay any more so I hopped on the first flight out to Georgia.”

Nix drops his bag on the ground and makes his way around the island. Dick is staring at him dumbly and Nix plucks the knife out of his hand. “You’re a horrible dancer,” Nix says, laughter in his voice.

Dick wrinkles his nose. “We haven’t all been trained in every part of life.” He says.

“I’ll teach you then,” Nix says, putting the knife down on the counter and grabbing Dick’s hand. “This is a good song to dance to anyways.”

Dick swallows harshly because this is not how he expected his winter break to go at all. He never expected it have Nix pressed close to him as they waltz around the room, a hand on his hip, and close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath. Dick freezes and pulls back then, ignoring the tightening of Nix’s grip on his hip.

“Sit, I’ll make you something to eat,” he says as he pushes Nix over to one of the stools at the bar. Nix is staring at him with dark eyes and Dick hurriedly turns back to the food that is still out on the counter. Most of it is chopped up already so he throws everything into the pan, completely aware of Nix’s eyes trained just on him. His hands shake a bit but he bites his lip and grips the pan’s handle tightly as he stirs the noodles around. It doesn’t take long and soon he’s placing a plate in front of Nix and sitting down himself.

Nix gives him a small smile and bumps his shoulder.

“Thanks,” Dick says before he can stop himself. “I mean, for coming back, I know you didn’t do it because of me, but I think it was going to be lonely out here all by myself.”

Nix’s smile is one he’s never seen before and Dick wants to know what it means but he forgets when Nix starts singing his praises about the food because he could be in France right now if he wanted to, eating a famous chef’s meal, not Dick’s home made lo mein.

“When we finish this.” Nix says, “I’m teaching you how to dance for real,” he points at Dick with his fork and Dick lets out a small laugh and shakes his head.


	10. Chapter 10

It started innocently enough, actually. Babe would bring him hot coffee, made up the way Babe drinks it, and shove it at him when he would hunch over two thousand page textbooks until the wee hours of the morning.

"You always make this shit too sweet," Roe grimaced.

"You need the sugar. It's good for you, like all them cigarettes." Roe would flick him off, grinning around the rim of his mug.

Babe was a history major, has taken a shine to things long gone, and spent the bulk of his hours reading primary sources and writing scathing critiques of much more accomplished scholars and their bullshit interpretations of history. Roe would laugh, say something stupid about George Washington and a cherry tree, and get an exasperated sigh for his efforts. He would have to leave quickly before he got the lecture.

Babe, however, was sensible about his work. He got his shit done and turned it with time to spare, always leaving himself a little time to relax. Roe's major, on the other hand, wasn't as heavy into busywork assignments and put a much higher emphasis on test scores. He felt like he was always studying and cramming and never seeing the pay-off, even though he had some of the best grades in his class. It was a constant uphill battle against thousands of pages of reading, hours of lecture, pages of notes, and hundreds of test questions. Babe could see how he worked himself into exhaustion. Babe would wake up at 3 am, find Roe still sitting cross-legged on his bed with a pen between his teeth, and a 9 am class he wouldn't miss if Babe paid him to. Babe tried bitching and moaning and throwing things, but Roe would just frown, throw it all back, hiss "Quit it, Edward, I'm studying."

Babe would give him the cold shoulder when he woke up the next morning, let him go without his coffee and feel petty for it. Roe never seemed to notice and that just made Babe feel even worse over it.

Babe eventually wizened up, wearily got out of bed when Roe is fixing to snap a pencil in half from chewing on it, sat on the bed beside him and slammed the textbook shut, throwing it on the floor.

"What the fuck, Edward, I got to-"

"You got to mother-fucking sleep, Gene, Jesus."

"Just give me my fucking books back."

"I will," Babe promised, with a smirk. "In the morning. After you sleep."

"You're an asshole."

"Nope," Babe said, leaning back against the pillows, "I'm your friend."

Roe paused, already laying back down, his eyes half-closed from exhaustion and said, "I know you are. And I know I'm lucky to have you."

Babe fell asleep right there on top of the covers, his back pressed to the headboard, and Roe sleeping like the dead beside him.

It became a bit of a thing, though it was never spoken of. Babe would pass out on Roe's bed, waiting for him to come home for the hospital, and Roe just wouldn't wake him up. He'd pull the covers off of Babe's bed and lay them over his friend before he'd pull his own open and slide into bed. Roe would always wake up first, the bane of his own existence, and slide out of bed to quietly dress for class or his clinicals, and leave Babe sleeping soundly.

Sometimes it would happen when Roe would make Babe hold up flashcards for him, both of them slowly sinking into the mattress as time ran off the clock, laughing at Roe's stupid answers and Babe's terrible pronunciation, and falling asleep with smiles still on their faces.

Some mornings, Roe would wake up to Babe laying on his stomach next to him, the covers pulled down to show his smooth back, one of his arms buried under the pillow and the other hung over the side of the bed. Those mornings, Roe had to resist the urge to run a hand between his shoulder blades, feel the muscles shift and tighten.

Other mornings, he would wake up to Babe's head on his chest, a leg hooked over his own to keep him in place, the whisper of stubble and breath on his skin. Those mornings were the hardest because it's always easier to not touch at all than to have to stop.

In winter, the bottom level of the house was drafty; too many cracks in the doors and windows leading to the outside and not enough insulation within. Roe had particular trouble with these mornings too because he would find himself curled into Babe's warmth, covers wrapped tightly around their shoulders, cheeks pressed against each other while they tried to subconsciously trap their collective heat between them. Sometimes he would wake up to his nose rubbing against Babe's face, sleepy whimpers of contentment in his ears, and with no way of knowing if they were his own or not.

Roe wanted to be a doctor because he always had a soft spot for his fellow man. His grandmere had always talked about the Love of God, of His Healing Touch. She'd quote Scriptures in English and French, words Roe could find in Bibles, and others he couldn't. One thing that always stuck out to him, though, was when she said, "no greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." He traced the words in his tattered old Bible, feeling the slightly raised ink with his sensitive physician's fingers, and felt his heart lurch.

He always thought that feeling was love: when he would look at all these silly college boys with their misguided dreams and foul mouths, and his heartfelt like it would beat clean out of his chest as it expanded, like it wanted to break free and envelope them all in his love.

It wasn't until those mornings with Babe's scent in his nose and his sheets, his warmth seeping into his very flesh, that Roe figured that this must be real love. Real love wasn't just the threat, but the actuality of his heart expanding and contracting too forcefully, pounding in his ears and veins, warm and so big and so very vulnerable.

Babe would frown when he rolled out of bed, breaking the sanctity of their cocoon for the outside world, and start the day without him. Roe tried not to think too much into that, but it is what it is, and he couldn't do anything but file it away as truth.

Roe tried not to get too attached to the idea of Babe always being there. He knew how things went in the Beta Omega Beta house: pledges became members, got a new room when the seniors graduated, declared majors, got lives. He couldn't count on Babe rolling onto his bed and stealing his books at 3 am, telling him to sleep now, study tomorrow, promising him he'd hold his flashcards and make him eat at some point.

It was hard, though, when he would come back to Babe chewing on the cap of a highlighter, a laptop whirring next to him with half of his history paper written on it, and a smile just because Roe was home.

"Do your fucking homework, Babe."

Babe smiled, the cap falling out of his mouth, and said, "You called me babe."

"Yeah," Roe said, smiling too, "I did."

Whatever reasoning Babe had for crawling into bed with him that night, Roe didn't even bother to ask. He just let himself roll closer to the center as the bed dipped, and let Babe press his toes against his calf, huffing a small laugh in his ear when they settled together on the same pillow.

Babe bought him a sign for the door. It said, "The Doctor Is..." and had a small wooden block with the words "In" and "Out" painted on each side that hung on it. He hung it up, the Replacements in the Puppy Room peaking their sleepy heads out of the door and frowning. "Hey, stop with the fucking hammering, shit."

"Yeah," Cobb said, "just 'cause you don't sleep in here don't mean you can do whatever the mother-fuck you want."

Babe just smiled, a nail held between his teeth, and gave it a few more whacks before he put it all away. "Respect the sign, assholes."

That night, Babe was woken up by screaming and pounding on the door. "Roe, wake up, it's Jackson."

Babe reached out and shook Roe's shoulder, whispered, "Gene, wake up, something's wrong."

Roe flailed a little in his sleep, smacked his elbow into Babe's nose, grabbed his ready bag of supplies, and was out the door, asking about the situation, before Babe could even grit out "fuck" and make his way into their bathroom to soak up the blood from his nose.

When Roe came back, Babe was leaning back against his pillow, looking discouragingly at the dried blood there. "What happened to Jackson?"

"Got his face mangled up by some douchebag upperclassman from Delta Omega Gama. Said Jackson brought it on himself." He set his stuff down, stripping back out of his hoodie and scrubbing a hand over his own face. "I sent him on to the hospital. I figured he's got at least one broken bone. What the fuck happened to you?"

Babe snorted, grimaced when it hurt, and said, "You did."

"Let me see it," Roe said, climbing back up on the bed.

"It ain't broken," Babe batted his hands away. "It just bled a little. Fragile capillaries and all that shit."

Roe's frown broke into a small grin, "So you've been learned from all my studying, huh?"

"Hard not to when we read it four times."

They'd settled back under the covers, both swearing at the cold chill brought in from the door having been opened. Their eyes were closed, their breathing relaxed, and the house quiet once again.

"Nixon is never going to buy us mother-fucking insulation," Roe grumbled. It hit him when Babe rolled over, arm thrown over his waist, that they were awake and talking, and they'd never done that before. This usually just happened, in silence, without either of them acknowledging it, but now Babe was chuckling in his ear, so very awake and cognizant of their positioning.

"Goddamn cheap bastard."

Roe reached out and touched Babe's nose and cheek with his thumb, rubbed it gently, soothingly. Babe smiled, nuzzled into the touch, and sighed, "Go to sleep, Gene. I'll get up tomorrow and make us pancakes."

"We have real food in the kitchen?" Roe's eyes opened in surprise.

"Well, it helps that Lip drug me along for the Food Run."

Gene chuckled, said, "Shut up and go to sleep. In the morning, I'll let you make me pancakes."

Babe pressed his hand flat against Roe's back, bringing them that much closer together, said right against his cheek, "Blueberry or chocolate chip?"

"Make it banana-chocolate chip and you got a deal." Their knees knocked together gently under the covers, skin warm and comforting.

"Picky bitch."

This time, Roe knew it was him who was sighing contently.


	11. Chapter 11

Harry honestly believed he's the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet. He grew up good, he's got a good family, a good education, the best frat brothers of all time, and the prettiest girl ever. So, in the face of those facts, he couldn't figure out how his life turned into this.

"Lewis Nixon." It was Harry's favorite curse word these days. He had stepped on another wayward hair curler on the floor of the bathroom and jumped back, only to get knocked into a hanger full of lacy things on the back of the door.

Kitty was too good for him. She was smart as a whip, funnier than Hell, and way too good-looking to be hanging around him, he knew that. That's why, when the fall fell rather inconsiderately into the fucking coldest winter Harry could remember, he had moved into Kitty's sorority house rather than expose her to the Betas. He thought, rather petulantly as he disentangled his face from someone's bra, that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if she did just-

He always forgets Liebgott.

"Fuck," he muttered, picking his way carefully over the cold tile to get back to the hall, "I love insulation."

It wasn't that Harry hated the Kappas, no. Kitty's sisters were great girls. He just hated living in that house, with so many of them, all of the time. There were forty-thousand bottles of shampoo in the goddamn shower and even more bottles with words on them that Harry did not even take time to read for the sake of his sanity. He learned quickly, and the hard way, to not look under the sink for fucking anything.

The Kappa house was always clean, and it smelled fucking fantastic all the time, and they always had cold beer and real food in the fridge and he didn't know if that was all Kitty's work or not (he suspected it was.) She was, like, the Kappas' Dick Winters. He was suddenly not surprised that she and Nix get on so famously.

"Kitty, darling," he said, stopping when she held up an impatient finger. She was studying and honestly, he probably should have known better. He collapsed on the couch next to her, gathered her back against his chest with a sigh, and let her read her assignment in peace.

"Oh, God," she sighed, snapping her book shut decisively and tossing it to the other end of the couch. "That's done."

"Remind me to write that paper tomorrow," he murmured into her hair and she nodded, content to nuzzle into him in a rare moment of peace.

"You always leave everything off to the last minute."

He snorted, ran gentle fingers through her brown hair. "You're one to talk. That book report is due...?"

"Not until three, so shut up."

"I FUCKING HATE HIM." Harry groaned, his head thrown back against the couch, the voice in the hall making him remember suddenly why he hates everything. Kitty's off and gone into the foyer, calmly talking one of her housemates out of homicide, while a few of the other Kappas offered to hide the body in semi-joking voices. Harry was very scared.

"It's none of mine, is it?" he yelled, thinking fondly of alcohol. God, how he loved alcohol.

"Delta Omega."

Harry nodded solicitously. "Bastards."

"Right!" the hysterical girl shouted back. "Fuck'em."

Bull came in, chewing on the end of an unlit cigar, and asked, "Nix still won't pony up for the insulation?"

Harry drug a weary hand over his face. “Worried about fucking holes in the wall." 

"He knows he can plaster over them, right?"

He shook his head discouragingly. "You got another one of those?"

Bull pulled one out reluctantly. "Vera doesn't like me to smoke'em in the house."

Harry pocketed it. "I'll smoke it back at the Beta house, thanks."

Perconte slipped in from the foyer, looking harried and a bit like a deer in the headlights, and flopped in one of the chairs. "Who died?"

"No one yet," Bull chuckled.

"You think Speirs can cover up a murder?"

"Fuck, man," Perconte said, more of the sisters pouring out of their rooms and into the general areas in various states of undress, as well as their douchebag boyfriends. "I'm fucking glad to be here, and I love my girl and all, but-"

Harry nodded. "I got to go home and get some of my shit. Anyone need anything?"

After failing to memorize Perconte's list of shit and kissing Kitty on the cheek quickly, Harry went home to find the Beta house in various states of chaos and drunkenness. Liebgott was singing in German in the shower and Luz was mocking him in the living room, unsurprisingly more on-key than Lieb. Toye and Gonorrhea (fuck if Harry remembered his real name after that incident freshmen year) were playing something that looked like a much louder and more violent version of Slapjack. Cobb and a few of the Puppies were dragging everyone's laundry down into the basement to the washers with scowls on their faces, and distantly, he could hear Dick making eggs just the way Nix likes them (he knew because Nix was loudly instructing Dick to "not break the yoke, please, I'm too hungover to make my own eggs.") He smiled, even if it still wasn't home, the Beta house always felt close.

That night, he braved the perilous wasteland that was the Kappa bathroom once again, leaving his t-shirt on until he closed the door to Kitty's room. "You get that book report in?"

"Emailed with seconds to spare," she said, a victorious fist pump to match her smile.

"You're fucking crazy." He crawled into bed with her, smiling at her too-big t-shirt nightgown that left one shoulder bare and the reading glasses she only let him see her in, and kissed her gently. She rolled onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"You don't have to pretend to love it here," she whispered in his ear. "I know we're crazy and there are way too many girls here for just about anyone's tastes."

"Ah," he scoffed, petting her hair and slipping her glasses off her nose for her. "Turn off that lamp, sugar."

Once they had settled back down for the night, her head pillowed on his chest and her fingers running down his arms gently, Harry said, "How do you feel about Marketgarden?"

"Those apartments?" She shrugged. "They're pretty nice. Why?"

"How would you feel about us getting one, after we graduate?" He felt her still but she was smiling, her breathing relaxed, and he kissed her forehead. "You know, just a thought."

"Hmmm," she hummed pleasantly. "It's a good one." They were quiet for a few moments before she yawned and said, "Paper. You have to write one tomorrow."

"Oh, fuck," he moaned, turning to bury his face deeper into her hair. She laughed, gentle and quiet, and they fell asleep that way.


	12. Chapter 12

Hey." There was a poke at the back of Web's head. "Hey, asshole, what are you getting?"

Web turned around to glare at Joe. "Coffee, dumb ass, what else?" before slamming some change on the counter and stalking over to the other side to wait for it.

Joe rolled his eyes and stuffed the change in his pocket to give to Web later, nodding at the barista. "I got this. His coffee and I want one of those muffins. With the poppy seeds." He peered at the gleaming machines behind the barista and scratched at his chin. "Yeah, get me a coffee as well. Thanks." He took his muffin and ate a piece, observing Web for a moment. He took in the dark circles and paler face than usual with a frown and walked toward him. "Y'wanna bite?" Joe said, offering him a piece of his muffin. Web gave him a sidelong look.

"Are there raisins?" he asked finally.

Joe snorted, "Fuck no. Poppyseed." He held it out again and, this time, Web took a big chunk, popping the whole thing in his mouth. There were crumbs on the corner of his lips and Joe stared at them intently, still watching when Web's tongue peeked out the side of his mouth to catch them. He was interrupted by the cheerful barista announcing their coffees. He took both and started walking to a table. "You coming?" He asked impatiently. "I got your coffee."

Web blinked at him and then scowled. "I didn't ask you to!" he hissed, stomping over to collapse on the overstuffed chair. He pulled his messenger bag off and let it hit the floor with a gentle thunk. Joe handed him his coffee and he nearly drank it in one go.  
Joe raised an eyebrow, putting sugar and cream in his. "You like it black?" he asked and Web pulled a face.

"No, but I like caffeine." Web rubbed his face tiredly and Joe frowned at him and leaned over.

"What’s got your panties in a bunch, turdbucket?" he said, flicking Web's nose. His hand got slapped away and Joe grinned unrepentantly at him. Web sighed and rolled his paper cup between his hands.

"It's nothing-I just, all my papers and I've been doing shit in this history class with this Professor Von Asshole and I'm probably failing because I write like SHIT and-auuughhh, " he moaned, and put his head in his hands. "I hate everything and I hate finals. Everything sucks ass."

Joe sighed and rolled his eyes, bringing his chair close enough to Web that their knees were touching. He put his hand on the back of Web's neck, his thumb resting at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. The rest of his fingers were inside the collar, his fingers resting on the smooth warm skin. "Hey, listen up, numbnuts. You're gonna be fine. I bet you're making a fucking A in that class and the prof hates you for it 'cause he's a fuckhead or something." He moved his hand up higher so that his thumb was just on Web's jaw. "You're such a Poindexter, there's no actual way you'll friggin' fail."

Web looked at him and gave a weak smile and snorted. "You're really fucking bad at comforting people you know?"

Joe shrugged. "S'what Ma tells me."

Web smiled a bit wider and sat up a bit, with Joe's hand still on his neck, moving in a soothing motion. He swallowed and looked at Joe, sitting with their knees together and Joe with his jacket and scarf still on. Web opened his mouth and closed it, not knowing what to say without them antagonizing each other. Joe licked his lips and Web watched in fascination.

"You like that?" Joe grinned unselfconsciously, licking his lips again exaggeratedly and making grotesque sounds. "Was my comfort worth a handjob at least?"

Web made a disgusted sound and wriggled out of Joe's grasp. "You," he said, "are absolutely disgusting and I want nothing to do with you. Biblically or otherwise."

"I'm a Jew, though.”

Web made another disgusted noise. “Whatever the fuck you are, I hate your stupid guts. God, you're the least subtle or romantic person I have ever met."

"Hey, what-" Joe protested as Web grabbed his bag and coffee.

"I'm leaving, if you couldn't tell,” Web said haughtily. "Bastard."

He stalked off and left Joe sitting there in angry confusion. "What the hell?" he said to his coffee and then to Web's retreating back, "Yeah, well, fuck you too, assmunch! I hope you do fail!"

With that he sat back in his chair and glowered at the closed door. He swigged back the rest of his coffee and stomped toward the door. Someone giggled and he gave them the stink-eye. "Not romantic enough. Fucking Web, I'm crazy fucking romantic," he muttered to himself on the way to the Foxhole. "I'll fucking show him romance. Fuck him."


	13. Chapter 13

Dick didn’t like to acknowledge it, but sometimes he was selfish. It wasn’t a good trait to have, but contrary to popular belief, he was human and did have his vices. He tried not to be, because he really did want to be a good person but it was hard when the thing he was most selfish about was his best friend’s love.

If Dick was a man known for not having any vices, Nix was known because of his. He drank, he smoked, he got high; you name it and Lewis Nixon had tried it at least once in his life. Dick loved him anyways, loved the man behind the alcohol and the daze of a good high. If he was honest, he even loved him when he was slurring his words and leaning on Dick’s shoulder.

Nix didn’t get high often, just enough to take the edge off of things. Dick usually knew when Nix was going to pester Muck or Penk for weed; it was usually prompted by a call from his parents, or a bad test score, or the week before any major test. Dick usually would just shake his head when the three of them started giggling together and made his way upstairs.

He knew what would happen, though, when Nix got high. Usually, Nix would sneak into bed with him, just to lay there. It was nothing, Nix just needed someone to comfort him and he goes to the one person he knows will be there for him. Dick knew that, but he couldn’t help but close his eyes and pretend to be asleep when Nix slipped under the covers. With his eyes closed, he could imagine that Nix was there because he wanted more. It wasn’t hard, not when Nix is pressed up against Dick’s back, his breath hot and damp against his neck. Nix's fingers curled around his wrist, his thumb pressed against Dick's heart beat, and Dick hoped that Nix didn’t notice it skipping or speeding up.

Sometimes, when Dick was selfish and admitted it to himself, he would wind Nix up before going upstairs to lay down. He’d harp about classes and grades and homework, anything he can think of that would make Nix want to take the edge off before slipping upstairs, and held his breath with anticipation until Nix slipped under Dick’s sheets and pressed against him. It was stupid and selfish, but sometimes Dick wanted Nix so much; wanted to tangle their legs together every night and actually see what Nix looked like when he was just waking up. He wanted to see him all sleepy eyed, mussed hair, and a warm smile - just for Dick. He wanted it all so much that it hurt when he looked at Nix sometimes.

It was after one of those nights where he wound Nix up that he decided he was done being selfish, done being sick with want every night as he fell asleep. His sheets still smelled like Nix when he woke up, but as usual, Nix had slipped out of Dick’s bed and presumably into his own room. Dick was quiet for the rest of the day, but that was nothing out of the ordinary, really. He only surprised everyone when he decided to go with the rest of the guys to Kitty’s Kappa Alpha Theta party. He watched everyone give each other uneasy glances and ignored the wounded look Nix was giving him.

Dick didn’t like parties. He usually ended up sequestered away in the corner furthest from the noise and nursing the drink with the least amount of alcoholic content he could find, and tonight wasn’t any different. He wasn’t really sure why he actually showed up in the first place, but he had to do something to try and fix this mess.

Dick was hiding in his corner when a pretty blonde settled down beside him. She smiled at him and tilted her head before holding out her hand. “Hi, I’m Beth.”

Dick shook her hand. “Dick. I mean,” he said with a bit of a flush on his cheeks, “that’s my name.”

An hour later, Dick finished up the story about the time that Nix tried to do his own laundry and flooded the laundry room. Beth looked a bit dazed and Dick closed his mouth after giving her a small smile.

“So, what you’re telling me is that you’re completely and totally in love with your best friend but he doesn’t know it?” Dick gaped at her, opened and closed his mouth uselessly. “And you don’t know how to tell him because you’re a man and you’re emotionally constipated.”

“No? I mean, what, how did you-”

Beth patted him gently on the knee. “It’s okay, I’m a girl, I can see these sorts of things.” She paused, “Also, that guy over there has been staring at us the whole time we’ve been talking and it’s sorta scary. Now I know why.”

Dick started to turn his head but Beth gently smacked his arm. “Don’t look, stupid,” she hissed.

“Oh,” Dick said, flushing a bit. “Er, I’m sorry, I should probably, go.”

Beth narrowed her eyes at him. “Hrm, are you like capital G gay, or just gay? Because I just broke up with my boyfriend and, if I don’t get laid tonight, I’m probably going to kill my roommate.”

Dick flushed bright red as she continued to talk. “Also? Jealousy works wonders. Believe me.” She said with a bright smile.

Dick swallowed harshly and gave her a faint smile. “I, uhm, guess. We could, I mean... you’re sure?”

Beth tilted her head again, and then she was in his lap, kissing him in front of all these people, in front of Nix. He wasn’t sure what to do. He’d only done this once and it had been nothing like this. He must have been doing something right because she was making noises and shifting against him in a way that should have really been outlawed. He made a sound of his own and she pulled back, wiping her lips with her thumb. “Okay, yeah, we can totally do this,” she said with a grin and stood up, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her.

“Your house isn’t too far, right?”

Dick nodded, still in a bit of a daze. He almost didn’t even notice when they walked by Nix, but he caught a flash of dark eyes. Dick felt like he’d been punched in the gut, but he kept following Beth.

When they tumbled into bed together later, Dick noted that the sheets still smelled like Nix. He shivered and kept kissing Beth, trying not to imagine what this would be like with Nix instead. He knew from living in the house that some people are loud, but it was different when it was her sounds filling up the room and echoing across the house. He tried to keep quiet, but it wasn’t easy when she was doing things he’d never even heard of before.

He woke up to an empty bed with sheets that smelled like a stranger. He stared up at the ceiling and sighed a bit before rolling out of bed to shower and get dressed. It was his turn to make breakfast.

When he finally made it to the kitchen, he was filled with a sense of unease. The house was too quiet. No one was even sleeping on the couches. That meant, either people stayed over at the Kappa’s or no one brought a girl home last night. He started making pancakes, expected the mad rush like usual, but not even a replacement stuck his head out of his door. He sat there for an hour before giving up. He started sticking the meal in Tupperware, figuring it was something he did, and it would be silly to make them give up pancakes because of something that was his fault. He sighed, labeling them all, before storing them in the refrigerator. Dick grabbed his bag and his cellphone. He was halfway to the library when he sent Lip and Roe a text message letting them know where he’d be all day.


	14. Chapter 14

Speirs wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. He knew it was wrong, on some level - any level; that it might even be an abuse of power. All that he knew was that he was off work, still in his uniform, and it wasn’t the usual dusk but midday, and he was at their door, knocking and holding his breath hoping that it was Lipton that answered.

The door swung open and Speirs let out the breath he was holding when he saw that it was Lipton. Speirs managed not to bite his lip at the sleepy look on Lipton’s face and, instead, gave him an uneasy smile. “Hello.”

Lipton frowned, checked his watch, then ducked out of the door frame to check the sky, before looking back at Speirs. “Officer Speirs, I think you’re a bit off. The boys aren’t even awake to make any noise this early in the day.”

“Right. I just-” Speirs started to talk, then remembered that he had no idea what he was doing here and let the sentence falter.

“Sir?” Lipton asked, the smile not his usual easy one, nor innocent in the least. Speirs choked back a moan and squeezed his eyes shut. There was a hand on his wrist, dragging him inside the house. “Please tell me you’re off work,” Lipton hissed and Speirs managed a nod before the door was slammed shut behind him. He was dragged through another door and pressed up against the wall. He let out a groan, his hat knocked to the floor, and a hand slipped into his hair, Lipton’s lips pressed against his. Lipton let out a noise from the back of his throat when Speirs’ hand slipped under his shirt. 

Speirs was pretty sure this was what drowning in someone felt like.


	15. Chapter 15

"Fuck," Roe muttered, slinging his bag to the floor and emptying out his pockets on the dressing table.

"What happened?" Babe sighed, raising his head from the pillow. Gene had a habit of coming home in a shitty-ass mood whenever something went wrong on his rotations: usually something outside of his control that he blamed himself for anyway. He sat quietly, looking at the new pair of scissors and four rolls of tape that tumbled out of Roe's pockets, to all be sorted and put into his supply bags in case of emergencies. Babe always had the sneaking suspicion that Roe had grown up wanting, seeing as how he was always afraid of running out of the essentials and hoarded them up like a packrat. It was never things for himself that he collected, no; it was always something that the Doc thought someone else would need, cared for and watched over for them by his kind, brown eyes, and given away without a second thought. It was these sorts of things that made Babe smiled fondly when Roe blew out a breath and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

"Kid broke a bone in his wrist and I fucking froze, couldn't tell my attending its name, looked like a fucking first-year med student with his head in the fucking clouds," he bit out. "Like a fucking... goddamn fool."

Babe slipped out of bed, silently helped Roe put everything away in their attached bathroom/makeshift first aid station, kept quiet as Roe muttered obscenities at himself, slamming drawers shut. "I've read those books with you, Gene," he said, finally breaking the silence when he thought like enough of Roe's self-deprecation had leaked out of him. "It's a fucking lot to learn and remember."

"Yeah, but this shit they teach to freshmen in their first anatomy class-"

"And how many years out of Anatomy 101 are you?" Roe said nothing. "Exactly." Roe threw himself despondently on the bed, his face in the throes of a real epic brood if Babe didn't act fast. Crawling up the bed and sitting cross-legged next to Gene, he smiled and said, "Just means we need a review session."

Roe looked up from where he was picking at a loose thread on their comforter and said, "What are you talking about, Babe?"

"Come on," he smiled, pouring all the charm he could muster at two am into it, and said, "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes, right? How hard can it be?"

Roe finally cracked a smile. "Alright, quiz me."

Babe pulled out one of Roe's old textbooks, flipped it open to the skeletal section with such ease, Roe wondered if Babe knew his study better than he did. "No cheating, Gene."

"Scout's Honor."

Babe looked up at him with his mouth wide open. "Do not tell me you were a boy scout."

"Hell, no." He didn't know why Babe looked so disappointed but he supposed it was just one of his friend's many charms.

"Should have known," Babe muttered, "what with all the thievery."

"I don't steal the stuff, Babe. I just...leave it in my pockets. On accident, you see."

Babe didn't look convinced. He slammed the book shut, threw it carelessly on the floor, and turned to Roe. "Where do you want to start?"

"How about the easy ones?"

Babe smiled, so self-assured, and said, "Ulna."

Roe pointed to it on his left arm. "Tibia."

Babe lifted his leg and knocked his knuckles on his shin. "Humerus."

They laughed their way through the major bones, banging on their chests like King Kong when Babe asked for the sternum. Roe smiled for real, the last vestiges of his sorrow a fading shadow in his eyes.

"Round Two: Lightning Round." He made a sound like thunder, Babe clutching his sides in laughter.

"Okay, Bones of the Face. AND GO."

Roe reached up, grabbed Babe's nose and said, "Nasal bone."

"You're a fucking cheat," he wheezed, voice distorted by Roe's grip. He slapped Roe lightly, playfully on the chin and smiled. "Mandible."

Roe swiped the pad of his finger under Babe's eyes, across his cheek, right over the dark circles that had become less noticeable since he'd moved in. "Zygomatic."

Babe licked his lips, the silliness replaced with a quieter joy, rubbed his thumb under Roe's nose, just catching the bow curve of his lip. "Maxilla."

Roe's fingers strayed up to the inner edge of Babe's eye, whispered, "Lachrymal."

Babe's hands suddenly found themselves in Gene's hair and he could barely groan, "Parietal bone," before he was leaning forward, eyes fluttering shut. Roe surged up, met him halfway, kissed him for the first time. He waited until Babe pulled back for air to say, "Challenge. That's a cranial bone."

Babe's pupils were wide, his hands still in Gene's hair, and he nipped at his lips, frowning. "If you’re so smart." He pressed a kiss, chaste, lips dry and closed, to Roe's, before he flipped over on his back and pointed at his feet. "Well," he said, arms behind his head casually, "go on."

Roe smiled, scrambled to the edge of the bed, was amazed at how easy it all felt; like it wasn't the start of something new, but the continuation of how things already were. He placed a light, teasing touch to Babe's toes, said "Tarsals, metatarsals." Babe smiled smugly, his toes already curling from Roe's touches. "Tibia."

"Ah, ah," Babe said, his fingers resting on his stomach, teasing himself with tickling touches to the delicate skin, "No cheating, remember?"

Roe looked up, saw how much Babe was loving this in the catch of his lip in his teeth, the way he could barely keep his eyes open, lent forward and pressed a kiss to his ankle. He named them, perfectly in order, a kiss for each bone, Babe's skin soft under his touch. "Medial cuneiform, intermediate cuneiform, lateral cuneiform, cuboid, navicular, talus, calcaneus."

"I'm not doing much good if you can still say all those big words," Babe joked, voice too thick to be teasing, hands gripping the comforter as Roe nosed his way along his calf, whispered names and kisses.

"Oh, I think you doing just fine," Roe said, kissing the side of Babe's knee as he bent it upwards, held it there as he kissed the soft inside of his thigh. "Just fine, Babe."

"Fuck," he said, grabbing Roe by the shirt and pulling him up to kiss him again. "Fuck, Genie, I love how you say that."

Roe smiled against his lips, reveling in the pant of hot air exchanged between them, fingers wandering but never getting lost. "How do I say it, babe?"

"Like you- like you fucking mean it."

Roe smiled again, kissed Babe hard, wanted him to know he did mean it, that he meant it all, everything, that this was everything. Babe hooked his arms around Roe's neck and that told him Babe did know, that he understood, that he wanted it too.

In the morning, Roe rolled over, slid his arms around Babe in the wane rising sun, said "I am never going to forget another bone for the rest of my goddamn life" as he kissed him awake.

Babe arched his neck, gave him more access, and laughed, "I should fucking hope not."


	16. Chapter 16

Liebgott was so pissed. Like, fucking wasted shitfaced pissed. Seriously. Didn't mean he couldn't lob a few pebbles up at Webster's window screaming at the top of his lungs, did it? Of course not.

"Webster! PSSSSSST, DAVID. OPEN YOUR FUCKING WINDOW, ASSHOLE."

"Jesus Christ, Liebgott, what are you doing?" a strange voice said. Joe's eyes focused a little more and he saw a familiar face hanging out of the window he was throwing rocks at.

"Miller! Hey, do you know where the fuck Web is? I need to fucking talk to him about, fuck," he paused as he tripped over his own feet and almost fell on his drunk face.

"Fuck, Liebgott, he's on the other side of the house."

"Tell Christenson I said 'hey'," Liebgott laughed, throwing another stone at James' head.

"Fuck you, Lieb," someone shouted from inside.

"Heard that, brother." More windows started to open and sleepy faces blinked in the moonlight. "I'm going to go wake Webster up."

"Jesus fuck, it's that Liebgott kid."

"Can't you and Dave leave it the fuck alone for one night, goddamn."

"Shit, what time is it even."

Liebgott picked up a handful of pebbles and started pelting them at the window he hoped was actually Web's.

"HEY BABY, BABY!" He threw some more stones, a few of them hitting the window with satisfying pings in the quiet night. "MY LONELINESS. IS KILLING ME. EVERY NIGHT."

Webster finally opened his window, peered out into the darkness, caught sight of Liebgott with a half-drunk bottle of Jack still in his hand, and sighed. Why is his life always like this?

"I MUST CONFESS I STILL BELIEVE," Liebgott continued, and then, in a frightening falsetto, "STILL BELIEVE. Fuck, I don't think I know any more of the words."

"Joe, how drunk are you?"

"NOT DRUNK, WEB. JUST TRYING TO, FUCK, WHAT'S THE WORD. I'm singing, okay, so shut your trap."

"Webster, while Beta Omega Beta may have the police in their pants, we do not so could you kindly shut your boyfriend the hell up?" Miller sighed from where he was still hanging outside his window.

"SERIOUSLY, WEB," someone shouted in the dark.

"BABY LET ME LOVE YOU DOWN," Liebgott went on, "THERE'S SO MANY WAYS TO LOVE YOU."

"Web, I'm not kidding, put a dick in his mouth or I will. Just make him shut up," someone else shouted.

"Fuck," Web sighed, dragging himself down the stairs to gather the drunk on his yard up. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, you asshole, I hate you, fuck."

Once outside, the dew-damp grass cold on his bare feet, he grabbed Liebgott by the shirt and pulled him closer to the house. "What the fuck, Joe?"

"Hey, I'm just trying to be all romantic and shit. Fuck you for wanting romance, man, if you weren't going to appreciate a little effort." Joe was still yelling and half of Web's neighbors were still hanging out of their windows listening in.

"This is not romantic. This is bordering on embarrassing."

"You have weird ideas, okay? You read too many books about shit like sharks, and shit. Like, what the fuck do sharks even have to do with literature, Web?"

Momentarily thrown, Web answered, "Nothing, I just like sharks."

"I CAN TOTALLY BE A SHARK FOR YOU. LIKE, A SEX SHARK. IF I STOP MOVING, I DIE."

"Wait," Miller said from above, "did you just quote Glee?"

"Hey, fuck you, Malarkey watches it."

Web sighed, ran a weary hand over his face, and said, "what are you trying to say, that you want me to like you? Is that why you keep doing this shit to me?"

"Can't you just get it?" Joe shouted, before he launched himself at Webster and pulled him into a kiss. When they broke, Webster hated himself for how breathless he was.

"You must be really drunk."

"Yeah, probably," Joe said, a hand smoothing down Web's hair gently, "but it doesn't mean I don't want it."

"Oh, God," Web said, his hands twisted in Joe's shirt. Joe kissed his cheek wetly, not quite so coordinated as usual.

"Can we get to that blow job now? I was promised a blow job by whoever came down here to shut me up."

"You're such a charmer, Joe," Web deadpanned.

"It's why you like me."

Web paused, ran his own fingers over Liebgott's sharp features and sighed, "God help me, I mother-fucking do."

This time when they kissed, it was met with semi-sarcastic applause and Miller shouting, "FINA-FUCKING-LY, JESUS CHRIST."

"You are so going to regret this in the morning," Web said, even as he was dragging Joe through the front door and back into his room.

Joe backed him against the wall just outside his door, held him tight against it, whispered, "As long as you don't, I never will."

It had to be the most sincere thing Web had ever heard from Joseph Liebgott in his entire life.

"Oh, fuck."

"That's the plan."


	17. Chapter 17

Dick smiled. Everyone was happy and relaxed after the horrible week that was finals’ preparation. The last exam of the semester was hours ago. The party started ten minutes after that, and it was still going strong. There were people all over the house in various stages of drunkenness. He passed through the living room, paused when he saw Roe leaning over Babe, exchanging kisses and holding each other close. Dick blinked because that was new. He shrugged and continued to his room.

He could hear Harry talking on the phone to Kitty and shook his head as he closed the door to the stairs behind him. The bass from the speakers could still be heard through the floor, but Dick was used to the sound by now and made his way to his own room.

He was so exhausted, he was tempted to pass out on his bed with his clothes on but somehow managed to change into pajamas before collapsing on his bed with a sigh. The sound of the bass almost covered up the squeak his door makes when it’s opened too far. Dick sighed, moved to look at the door, and wondered what sort of problem he had to fix now.

He paused when he saw Nix closing the door behind him, stumbling across the room in a completely sober move. Nix flopped down on the bed before Dick had a chance to say anything. Dick scowled for a second when he realized that Nix wasn’t going to move and he really couldn’t handle a whole night of being pressed against Nix like this. The scowl melted away when Nix looked up, resting his chin on Dick’s shoulder, and smiled at him.

“Hey,” Nix said, his smile reaching his eyes for the first time in a long while.

Dick’s eyes widened because Nix had never talked before when he did this; it was always quiet and never acknowledged.

“Hey,” Dick breathed out. Nix’s smile grew a bit. Dick was suddenly aware of every spot they were pressed together when Nix shifted. He didn’t say anything, though; just stared at Dick until he had to break the silence himself.

“Nix?” he asked, his voice quiet and shaking.

“Yeah, sorry, I just-" Nix was stumbling over his words and shifting around again. He leaned over Dick, biting his lip, and Dick's eyes fluttered shut. "Hey, no, look at me. I just- Let me try something?"

Dick nodded before he even realized it was a question. It only took a second, but soon, his head was full of the sensation of Nix's hand in his hair and Nix’s breath gusting across his face and his other hand falling from his hairline to the bridge of his nose and his lips. Dick's breath stuttered and, even in the dark, he could see Nix's eyes get larger. His mouth fell open before he bit it closed again as if holding back all the words he had been wanting to say for months.

"God, you're amazing," Nix finally said in awe, his fingers resting right under Dick's chin.

Dick swallowed harshly, opened his eyes all the way, and hoped that his eyes conveyed everything, all the things he wanted because he was finding it too hard to breathe right now, much less think of something to say and actually say it. He must have got the message across because Nix ducked down and pressed his lips to Dick's. It was everything he thought it would be, yet even better than he could have imagined. Nix let out a choked sound and Dick shifted a bit. He managed to roll them over so that it was him staring down at Nix, eyes bright. Dick lent down this time and captured Nix's lips for his own.

Nix's hand was gripping his hip hard enough to hurt but he couldn’t even feel it because this was perfect and right and amazing. He wanted to relearn everything about Nix and he was going to in the morning.

Nix woke up first. He started with making him let go of all those noises held at the back of his throat.

The next morning, he smiled, started to count all the freckles he could see, and, this time, when they disappeared under the blanket, he didn’t run away.


	18. THE RULES

The Rules

1\. NO ONE WATCHES MOTHER-FUCKING BAMBI IN THIS GODDAMN HOUSE. EVER. AT ANY POINT -lip

this also applies to Titanic and the Notebook- harry

fuck you pansies, those are great movies -Lieb

2\. SEE RULE ONE

3\. UNLESS THE HOUSE IS BURNING OR YOU HAVE LOST A LIMB DO NOT WAKE NIX UP.EVEN THEN YOU SHOULD PROBABLY JUST WAKE UP DICK. -Nix

in the case of actual limbs lost please wake Roe

4\. Cooking is a dangerous art! Please always use a cooking buddy!- Dick

Please no sex in the Kitchen. We eat there- Lip

Whoops -lieb

aw fuck leib! -Perconte

5\. NO SPAGHETTI. EVER. DO NOT ASK WHY.

HI-HO SILVER- muck

FUCK YOU-Lieb

SOMEONE HIDE THE SHARPIES FROM LIEBGOTT. -Lip

that would have been a real helpful rule six months ago- Web

its been up a year dude -perconte

LIP, ROE, AND DICK ARE THE ONLY PEOPLE ALLOWED TO DRIVE THE VAN. HIDE THE KEYS FROM NIX AT ALL TIMES -Lip

I BOUGHT THE MOTHER-FUCKING THING.

No one cares, buddy. You're a menace

FUQ THE POLICE

I did!

PLEDGES, DON'T TRY TO OUT DRINK NIX OR HARRY. YOU WILL DIE IN THE PROCESS AND NONE OF US WANT TO WEAR SOMETHING NICE TO THE FUNERAL

NO ONE TALK TO KITTY. -harry

No one listen to harry -Kitty

RESPECT THE SIGN, ASSHOLES -Babe


End file.
